


Transforming Homura-chan!

by Darkbeetlebot



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Awkwardness, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dinner, Dysphoria, F/F, First Time, Fluff, Girl Penis, Handholding, Happy Sex, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Making Love, Massage, Meeting the Parents, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Pegging, Romance, Sex, Smut, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Vaginal Sex, Wholesome, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 12:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21036494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkbeetlebot/pseuds/Darkbeetlebot
Summary: Non-magical AU where Homura is a trans girl and she's dating Madoka. In this fic, they have their "first time". Very wholesome smut.





	Transforming Homura-chan!

“Are you ready?” Junko asks her husband, hands on his shoulders with a doubtful look on her face.

“Ready.” he confirms despite her doubt.

“We're going to meet our daughter's girlfriend.” she restates to him.

“Right.”

“And you're _not_ going to say _anything_ weird. Right?”

He chuckles, “There's no need to worry, I'm not your dad. This isn't going to be a repeat of when I met _him._”

She groans, “Don't remind me.”

He reassures her, “Junko, dear, don't worry. This isn't going to be awkward. Now, I'm more worried about what _you_ might say when you get drunk, later.”

“I'm not going to get drunk!” Junko nearly yells.

“Really? Not a single drop?” he asks, now being the doubter.

“Nothing.” she says.

“You promise?”

“Only if you do the same.” she says with a smirk.

He smirks back, “That won't be a problem.”

“And now we just have to pray that Tatsuya doesn't wake up until morning.” she says, looking over her shoulder.

“That won't be a problem, either. I made sure to wear him out before you got home; he should be sound asleep for a while.” He suddenly wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her in closer, giving a seductive glare, “Maybe we can finally have some _alone time_, for once.”

Junko giggles at it, and gives her own right back at him, “Oh? When did _you_ become the aggressive one? Weren't you begging to be on the receiving end, last time?”

“What, I can't be aggressive for once?” he replies facetiously.

“Well, I guess it's nice to let someone else do the work, sometimes.” Junko relents. “Besides, I like when you get assertive.”

“You, too.” he says as he pulls her in for a kiss which she gladly accepts. Nothing too raunchy, but enough to get the message across that they're both _very_ in the mood, at the thought of what a good night this could end up being.

When they part, Junko wonders, “Oh, what time is it? Don't want to give them a show right as they walk in.”

Tomohisa looks down at his watch, “A few hours from midnight.”

“Any minute.” she says, looking towards the front door. “Think she'll like what you made?”

“I haven't found a single person who didn't like it. What was it that regional manager said?”

She chuckles, “Something about putting his wife to shame?”

“That's the one.” he says, then pauses. After a brief silence, he comments, “He was an asshole.”

She cracks up, “Oh, tell me about it! Glad I never have to suck up to him, again.”

“Agreed. So should we keep waiting here, or—?”

Just as he's about to suggest something, they can hear the door opening, accompanied by the eponymous, “Mama, Papa, I'm hooome!” from Madoka. Her volume makes her excitement apparent.

“There they are.” Junko says, stepping out of the embrace to make her way towards them. “Come on, let's make a good impression.”

Once they've made their way to the entrance, they feast their eyes upon the drop-dead beauty that Madoka just brought home with her. Homura, dressed in a form-fitting black dress and sheer tights, and a fancy, thick scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. If anyone could personify the color of black, she is definitely it. Her hair is perfectly straight and pitch black, reaching down to her waist. The only thing out of place is her red-rimmed glasses, which would fit better on a more cutesy look but nonetheless still manage to work. The only thing clashing with her is the massive duffel bag she's hauling over her shoulder.

Junko whistles, “ _Wow._ Did I teach my daughter to chase pretty faces or what?”

Homura clears her throat thoroughly before replying in an unusually quiet voice, “I'm flattered. But honestly, I'm not that pretty.”

“Homuraaa!” Madoka whines, immediately dashing to her side for a tight hug. “Don't say that!” she pleas.

Homura can't help but grin, “Okay, okay, I'm sorry.”

Everyone is giggling about it, except for Tomohisa who can't help but notice, “...You are...quite tall.”

Indeed, she has about a head on Madoka. It's just enough so that she can bury her face in her chest without even trying. Which she does. Frequently, as it would seem. Homura grimaces slightly at the comment, “...There are tall women.”

He nods and agrees, to her surprise, “I guess so. Anyways, you two hungry? I got something special prepared!”

Madoka nods, “Yeah, yeah! I'm starving! What is it?”

“Papa's famous cream stew is on the menu, today! I know for sure, she'll love it.” he brags. “Now come on, we can talk at the table. Don't let it get cold!” He starts to walk towards the kitchen.

“Homura, let's go!” Madoka says with a wide smile, skipping off on her own and expecting her to follow.

She's about to, but then Junko stops her for a second, “Akemi, right?”

“Eh?” Homura says at first, looking confused. “Oh, right. Yes, Homura Akemi.” she confirms, still borderline whispering.

Junko pats her on the back as the two slowly walk, “Sorry about that, you must hear a lot about your height.”

“It's okay, really. I hear it all of the time.” Homura insists.

“And you know you can speak up, right? There's no need to be quiet and proper with us.”

“This...is my regular volume. I can't speak very loudly.” Homura explains, albeit with some hesitation. She clears her throat again.

“Ah, maybe I can teach you to project some more!” Junko pats her on the back, laughing at...something. Herself?

Homura hardly shares the hysterics, “Uh, sure.”

As they're walking, Junko notices, “Oh, Homura, you left your scarf on. Here, let me get that...”

Homura sidesteps away from her out of reflex and waves her hands, voice breaking slightly as she declines “No, no! No, I... I like to keep it on. It's important. To me.”

“Oh.” Junko says, taken back a little by her overreaction.

Awkwardly, they continue to the table. Homura sits next to Madoka and across from her dad. Madoka sits beside Homura and across from her mom. Everything is already set up for them.

After they all sit down and give thanks, Madoka immediately digs in, holding back a positive squeal both from how piping hot the stew is, and the fact of how orgasmically amazing it is. So much so that she eschews talking in order to shovel more of it into her mouth immediately.

“Well then.” Homura comments, opting to stare at her girlfriend vore a bowl of stew in surprise instead of following suit.

Her parents are less surprised. Her dad tries to calm her down, “Madoka, honey, slow down a little. You're going to choke, again.”

“I'm okay!” Madoka tries to say while her mouth is full. Homura is still enamored with her, and hasn't started yet.

Junko addresses her, “Homura, you alright? You're not eating.”

She suddenly realizes, “Oh. Oh! I'm sorry, I was just...distracted.”

Junko chuckles, “Heh. Can't keep your eyes off of her, can you? I know, Tomo was like that when we first started dating! Weren't you?” she elbows him gently.

He smiles back at her, expertly avoiding an embarrassed look, “Well of course. How couldn't I?”

Homura isn't so finely tuned and starts blushing, but does her best to hide it. Luckily, nobody comments. Once the two “adults” in the room are finished teasing each other, Junko asks the girls, “So how'd _this_ here get started, huh? Tell me everything.”

Madoka stops eating long enough to start talking, but Homura stops her, “No, you finish. I'll talk.”

Madoka shoots back at her, “You haven't even touched yours! No, you eat, I'll do it!”

Homura throws her hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay.” then starts eating.

Madoka clears her throat and cleans her mouth of with a napkin very proper-like before she starts, “Well, it was kind of slow-going. The first time I got to really talk to her was the day she transferred in and I had to take her to the nurse for her medicine, but we got sidetracked. And, well... You know. But when it got serious...”

Junko leans in with an eager grin.

“...It was when a few guys learned about her secret, and that she really liked me but couldn't say it. So one of them tried to confess to me to get to me before she could.”

“Oh? A secret?” Junko asks.

Madoka giggles, “Mama, it's a secret for a reason. I'll tell you someday.”

Junko accepts this with a defeated smile, “Alright, I get it. Go on.”

“Well, anyways, I'm really lucky. Sayaka and Hitomi overheard them talking about it and told me before it happened, so I knew what to do. They didn't take it well, though.”

“That's when they started pushing her around, isn't it?” Junko guesses.

“Yeah, but I told you about that much.”

“Right.” Junko nods.

“So, a little while later, after I told Homura what happened, — I didn't know she liked me, yet — we were up on the roof, during lunch. I got a little bit of rice on my cheek. Then Homura just sort of...”

Junko stares intently.

Madoka's voice starts to shrink and grow softer as she explains, and a blush appears, “...she ate it, right off of me, then looked me in the eyes and kissed me. Right on the top of my lips. That's when she told me.”

At this point, Homura is absolutely gushing red and has her face covered with one hand while she eats with the other; basically dying of embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Junko whistles, “Damn. That's _smooth_. From all the things you told me about her, I figured she'd be a mess!”

Well, that's just what she assumes. In reality, it was hardly smooth: Homura was a shaking, stammering mess at the time who could barely even utter the words without crying afterwards.

Junko continues to compliment her, “Well, I guess that cool look suits you. Now if only you used contacts instead of glasses...” she looks closer at the girl who's still hiding her face.

“Mama, please!” Madoka calls out. “We're already killing her!” She rubs the back of Homura's head consolingly, when she notices that she hasn't made a dent in the stew. She pouts, “Homura, come on! You need to eat!”

Homura groans, “Madoookaaa...”

Madoka inches closer and whispers into her ear, “You won't fill out if you don't eat.”

Well, that did it. Homura, terrified by this prospect, quickly sits up and tries to eat just as quickly as Madoka was, which elicits a chuckle from the lot of them.

Junko eventually follows up on the conversation, “So, how long ago was this and why didn't I know?”

Madoka giggles, “Ah, well, it was a while ago. Maybe a few months. I just didn't know how to tell you, and wanted to wait until I knew we would be together for a long time.”

“Oh?” Junko raises an eyebrow. “Don't tell me you're already thinking about getting engaged!”

“Mama, don't be silly.” Madoka waves her off. “Besides, we would have to move to someplace like America where they would actually let us get married...”

“Really?” Junko prods.

“Yeah.” Madoka ponders. “Someplace in California would be nice...”

“Oh, so you _were_ thinking about it?”

“Ah—! I mean...!” Madoka tries in vain to recover.

“Hmph. Caught red-handed.” Junko smugly teases. Madoka can't help but look away, and Junko still lectures her, “Madoka, you need to at least wait a year or two before you consider that. And finish high school, first! The last thing you want is to be stuck in a dingy apartment where you can't get a job because you didn't finish school!”

“Mama, I get it...” Madoka whines. At this point, Homura's relaxed herself and is just staring at the two as they bicker, smiling fondly. Dinner carries on like that for a while, until they're just going on about the mundanity of life for minutes on end. Tomo is oddly quiet, but Junko can probably guess why. She can also see the utter impatience on the face of the two girls as they steal glances at each other throughout the time spent. Thus, she decides it's about time everyone get down to business. And she knows what kind of business. At least, for her end.

She rises up and stretches out exaggeratedly, “Well, I guess that's it. It was nice to meet you, Homura. Treat my girl right, you hear?”

Homura nods eagerly as she stands up too, “Of course.”

Tomohisa starts picking up the bowls, “I'll get the dishes.”

“Thanks.” Junko says as she pecks him on the cheek. “I'll get these two upstairs.”

The girls get up and follow her upstairs, quietly and while holding hands. With the duffel bag in tow, of course.

After leading the two up to Madoka's room, Junko starts lecturing, “Okay. There's a sleeping bag under the bed, just roll it out and it'll fit you fine. You brought your pajamas, right?”

“Right here.” Homura says, dropping the duffel bag full of who knows what on the floor.

“Good. If you need anything, feel free to ask. Plenty of snacks in the kitchen; feel free to do whatever you want, just don't wake up the little guy. Okay?”

“I know, mama.” Madoka says impatiently.

“And one more thing...” Junko says as she brings all of them closer, having both by their shoulders “Look. I know what I _wish_ you would do, but I also know what you're _probably_ going to do with tonight. I was your age once, you know.”

Madoka looks quite worried, “M-Mama...”

Junko continues regardless, “I just need to know that you both understand what you're doing, and...”

Madoka interrupts, “Mama, I know, I'm the health officer!”

Junko waves her hands, “I know that! I'm just making sure. You have the proper protection, right?” She fetches a ziplock baggie full of “protections” for lesbian couples including dental dams and finger condoms. Yes, _finger condoms_. Not gloves, nor regular condoms, but _finger condoms_.

Madoka stutters at the sight of it, “Ah...Mama, that's...” She looks back and forth between her mom and Homura.

Luckily, the latter intervenes, “Don't worry, Mrs. Kaname, I brought everything like that.” She gestures towards the duffel bag.

Junko glances at it, then back at Homura. “Oh.” she says knowingly. “So  _that's_ why you brought that beast. I thought it was pretty overkill!”

Homura blushes and looks away, “Well, I thought I would be thorough.”

“Responsible.” Junko compliments. “I like that.” She finally lets go and ceases her embarrassing lecture. As she's leaving, she tells them, “Well, you kids have fun! Now, I'm going to go have some 'alone time' of my own.” She chuckles to herself.

Madoka facepalms, “Mama, please...”

“Sorry!” Junko apologizes halfheartedly, then gets the door closed in her face.

In the background, Homura can't help but giggle at the exchange, “That was...something.”

“I'm sorry.” Madoka quickly apologizes, still obviously exasperated from it.

Homura slowly but fully embraces her, whispering while resting her head upon hers, “Your parents are great. You don't need to be embarrassed. I'm having fun, you know. About to have even more...”

Madoka cozies up to her and squeezes her waist tightly. Smiling contently, she says, “Yeah. A lot of fun.” They share a short, quiet moment before parting. Then, Madoka asks, “So what's  _actually_ in there?”

Homura smirks, crouches down, and unzips it. Inside is a cornucopia of her own snacks that she quickly gathered from her house, a set of pajamas, some  _risque_ lingerie, several varieties of sex toys, and a single box of condoms.

“_Oh._” Madoka says, somehow not the least bit surprised. “So that's why you took so long.”

“And...” Homura says as if she's performing a magic act. She shuffles things around a little and, just as if it were, she somehow manages to pull out an entire PS4 and a stack of games with two controllers. “Just in case.” she says.

“Did you put a TV in there, too?” Madoka jokes.

“I brought this.” Homura says, pulling out a laptop.

Madoka looks genuinely amazed. And a little concerned. “Homura...how did you carry that  _all the way here_ ? Is your back okay? Do I need to give it a massage after all of that?”

Homura chuckles, “I'm fine. It was heavy, but therapy didn't take  _that_ much of my strength away. Though...I wouldn't object to one.”

Madoka giggles, jumps onto the bed and pats beside her. Homura joins and sits as directed, and Madoka gets behind her while placing her hands on her shoulders. Homura caresses her hand for a moment, “Go easy, now. Don't want to do what Sayaka did...”

“Oh, god, no.” Madoka says in an exaggerated tone as she begins slowly pressing in and rubbing, cringing at the memory of Sayaka's brutal attempt at a back massage.

She hits something around the center that makes Homura shutter, “Y-Yeah. Right there. That's...” she lets out a sudden, somewhat deep moan that makes Madoka stop for a moment in embarrassment. Homura leans back into her and whispers, “Don't stop.” Madoka follows up, putting pressure onto that one spot to make the girl basically melt into her in seconds. Eventually, she moves down and wraps her arms around Homura's waist, pulling her in closer and rubbing her belly casually.

“Is this alright?” she asks.

“Perfect.” Homura says, leaning her head back and laying a soft kiss on Madoka's cheek.

Unable to help herself, Madoka turns her head and catches Homura with her own kiss, locking their lips together loosely. Slowly, she finds her hands wandering up and gently squeezing Homura's mostly nonexistent chest, but it still manages to make her jump slightly.

Madoka also jumps, “O-Oh, I'm sorry! Are they still sore? Did that hurt?”

Homura shakes her head and reassures her, “It's okay. It just felt better than expected. They're going to be sore for a long time, you know.”

Madoka sighs, “Right...” She starts carefully rubbing them side to side, like kneading a particularly delicate ball of dough. Subtly, she can feel Homura's ribs poking up where there isn't enough fat. She sighs again, but less of relief and more of concern, “You want them to be big and shapely, right?”

Homura nods, “Of course. More for both of us to enjoy.”

Madoka kisses her cheek, “Then you need to eat more! They'll never grow if you keep this up.”

“It's just genetics. There are plenty of thin girls with big ones.” Homura insists, kissing back. “Besides, I think they've started up, again.”

Madoka pouts, “But those girls get surgery to look like that...”

Homura turns around and looks her in the eye, “What about you? You're starting to fill out, yourself, and I wouldn't say you're fat.”

“Of course you wouldn't...” Madoka murmurs, looking away in embarrassment.

Homura hums, “Hm. Well, if you won't believe me, then you'll just have to show me.”

“Eh?” Madoka says as she looks back at her, somewhat shocked.

Homura starts to slowly slip off her dress, “It's okay, I'll do it too. Let's compare, I'll show you.”

Instinctively, Madoka looks away. And then back again, doing a double take. And again while Homura's still stripping down, so occupied with stealing glances that she neglects to take her shirt off. The next thing she knows, Homura is half-naked and turning Madoka's head gently with a hand cupped around her cheek. She whispers, “You alright?”

Madoka nods absentmindedly as she stares at her, eyes wandering down a ways gradually. Finally, she swallows her pride and quickly unbuttons her shirt, casting it aside to the floor along with her bra, leaving them both half-bared to each other. They both start staring, red streaming from ear to ear. Homura's is accompanied by a fond smile, while Madoka's is awkward.

Homura comments first, “You know, this is something that I've always fantasized about being able to do...” She scoots a bit closer.

Madoka follows, scooting up until their knees touch, “What, comparing? Girls don't usually do this sort of thing. It's just in stories.”

Homura giggles, “But we're not just girls, you know. We're...” she comes closer, pulling Madoka into her lap and docking their chests together “...girl_friends_. So, this shouldn't be weird, right?”

Madoka slumps over and buries her face into Homura's shoulder, whining, “No, it's even more embarrassing! I'm really nervous!”

Homura grunts, “Madoka... Madoka, I'm nervous, too. But look...”

She lifts her head up.

“Down.”

She looks down at their chests pressed together.

“They're the same.” Homura explains. “_We're_ the same. Kind of. And nothing will change one fact...”

She presses their foreheads together, and Madoka hums, “Hm?”

Homura whispers to her, “That I love you.”

Madoka smiles widely, her worries having been washed away in an instant by three little words. She repeats them back, “I love you, too.”

And they slowly inch forward until their lips are also pressed together, where they envelop each other in a tight hug and deepen the affection. “I love you...” Homura repeats as she takes a breath, then goes back in with greater force, parting their mouths and letting her tongue slide in and entangle with Madoka's, who reacts with a shudder.

She then finds herself being gradually pushed backwards before collapsing onto the bed, bringing Homura down with her, the two still kissing. The weight of her breathing builds while her hand starts wandering down Homura's back, around the subtle curves of her hips, and around the rim of her panties where her reach meets its end, but she knows what's there. Her leg lifts up just enough to gently nudge and then press up between Homura's legs, showing her just how steely and broad her tool's become just from some light teasing.

Madoka teases when she feels it, “H-Homura, did you get like this just from kissing me?”

Homura pushes herself up a little and rolls her hips along Madoka's leg, “I'm... I'm always like this when I'm around you. But...” She lowers herself back down, slowly, tightly grasping onto Madoka and nibbling her neck, “But you know I don't like it...”

“I know.” Madoka says, kissing back. “I can't get rid of it, but...I can get rid of some part of it, at least. Right?”

Homura rises back up a bit to give her a peck on the lips before asking, “...Do you really want to do this?”

Madoka rubs up her back some more, going up to her head and gently caressing it. “Of course.” she whispers, the resonance of her cotton-like voice giving Homura goosebumps. The two immediately kiss, far harder than before, trying to force their faces together as if they could fuse into one at any moment. But before that could conceivably happen, Homura pulls away and retreats to the foot of the bed.

Madoka reaches for her, but Homura stops her, “Wait... Wait...” She reaches down into her bag and pulls out the box of condoms, plus a little something extra.

Madoka sits up and is quickly brought to a red glow as she lays eyes upon the device in front of her. “What...is that?” she asks breathlessly.

“This? It's just a strap-on. _For you_.” she says, bringing up the toy, equipped with what appears to be some animalistic dildo only vaguely resembling normal reproductive organs.

“For...me?” she asks, worried about what that might mean.

Homura crawls up towards her and presses their noses together, looking directly into her eyes as she says, “I want _you_ inside of _me_.”

Madoka feels like she could faint at any second, and can barely even respond to such an idea. She asks, “Like...in your...?” she gestures towards her own butt.

Homura nods, “Don't worry, there's a reason I took so long at my apartment.”

“Okay...” Madoka says, inching closer with hesitant curiosity.

But just as she's about to get down to business, Homura remembers, “Oh! Towel!”

“Towel?” Madoka looks confused.

“We need a towel, or the bed's going to get..._soaked_.” Homura explains, getting up with a jump and throwing her dress back on. “I'll be back in a second!” she says.

“O-Okay.” Madoka stutters as she's left briefly alone. Curiously, she starts messing with the strap-on and pulling down the rest of her clothes.

A minute or so later, Homura comes back with a large towel, “Okay, this should be big...” she pauses to stare at Madoka, completely nude except for the device strapped to her hips “...enough.” She quickly closes and locks the door, then slides over to the bed and asks, “So I guess you figured it out, huh?”

“It was...easier than I thought.” she says, her face still red. “So... I should get up, right?” she hesitantly rises.

“Right.” Homura confirms, in much the same state of embarrassment. She rolls up the blankets to the foot of the bed and lays out the towel to cover the majority of it, then goes back over to the bag and pulls out a bottle of clear liquid. “Lube.” she explains and sets it down next to the box of condoms, after which she strips down to her panties again and sits at the foot of the bed, just next to the rolled up blankets.

Madoka sits back down in the center, scooting up close to Homura and just sort of staring at her. “Homura...” she starts to ask.

“Ah... Yes?”

“You need to pull those down if you want to do it.” she says.

Homura takes a deep breath, “...Okay.” and starts slowly pulling them down. It's a bit clumsy, but she's eventually completely exposed.

Madoka smiles at her and gives her a brief kiss, then comments, “You know, it's always a bit...surprising...to see that.” She's staring down between her legs at Homura's, well, frankly it's a dick. Somewhat atrophied from disuse, but still impressive to say the least, especially in how..._excited _it can still get after so much neglect. Standing right up on end, almost the length of her hand. The testicles are barely even there at this point, and it's all cleanly shaven of course. Almost obsessively so.

Madoka places her hands onto Homura's thighs, pressing down on them and rubbing them down while Homura desperately looks away and tries not to fidget too much. In seconds, she's pulled onto her back and has Madoka right between her legs, which for some reason makes her giggle.

“Hm?” Madoka hums as she looms overhead, staring Homura in the eyes.

“Nothing.” Homura dismisses, still subtly laughing. “It just seems a little ridiculous is all. How often does something like this happen?”

Madoka smiles back at her, “I bet it's more common than you think.”

“Maybe.” Homura considers. She snaps back into place, “Oh, don't forget the other things...” She reaches back and fiddles with the condoms until she gets one and rips it out of the packaging. “Put this on.” she says, handing it over.

“Put it...on this thing?” Madoka asks, pointing at the dildo.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It's a pain in the ass to clean if you don't.”

Madoka giggles, “'Pain in the ass?'”

Homura chuckles back when she realizes the unintentional pun, palms and covers her face, and shoves the rubber forward, “God, just put it on!”

Madoka takes it from her, “Okay, okay... Now... How...?” She starts flipping it over like a coin, stretching it and such, trying to measure it up to the much-larger-by-comparison toy.

Homura quickly intercepts, “Ah, right. Here, like this...” She guides her hands to place it right on the tip, pointed side up, and shows her how to gradually roll it down with strokes. “See?” she says.

“Yeah.” Madoka looks amazed by how deftly she managed to do that. “How are you so good at that?”

“I'm not, I just watched a video.” Homura admits. “Now, put a _lot_ of this on it.” she says as she reaches back again to fetch the tiny bottle of lube.

This is at least something that's easy to figure out. Madoka can easily pour a copious amount onto the thing and smear it well enough, but also puts on so much that it douses the towel below. Neither of them cares enough to comment on it.

“Now we just line it up and go..._very_ slowly.” Homura directs her.

“Right,” Madoka says, taking a deep breath “here it goes!” She spreads Homura's legs and pushes down, lining up the tip as told and prodding the entrance, only for Homura to sharply yelp and make her stop. “Homura!?” she shouts.

Homura is basically clinging to the sheets in terror, but insists, “It's okay! Keep going!”

Madoka doesn't quite feel right about it, but trusts her anyways and keeps trying. After about a full minute of slowly pushing, pained yelps, no's and yes's; and a final push, they finally get the _tip_ in. As soon as it's there, Homura lets out a relieved sigh. Only for a tiny exertion to shove at least half of the length of the strap-on right through her postierior instantly, making her let out a deep and sonorous moan of shock, pain, and unabashed _euphoria_.

After the sudden intrusion, she's stuck in a state of motionlessness while a _very_ concerned Madoka starts apologizing profusely to her. But in the end, it's apparently fine, as Homura takes her legs and wraps them around her lover, trying to pull her in closer as she says, “It's okay! Just keep going!”

“What!?” Madoka says in shock.

“FUCK ME, MADOKA!” Homura shouts as loud as she can while still sounding feminine.

Surely everyone in the house heard that. The thought rushes through Madoka's head briefly before she remembers that she's literally impaling someone right now. “Oh! Uh, okay! Like...this?” she stutters and starts to slowly move her hips back and forth.

Homura starts breathing in and out, sharply, through her teeth. “Y-Yes... Like that, just...slow and long. Slow and long.”

“Slow and long.” Madoka repeats. “Got it.” And with that, she starts trying to draw it out as much as possible. Homura winces a few times in clear discomfort, but her vigorously twitching dick betrays her. And though Madoka is concerned, she decides to take a bit of action instead of talking: She grabs that thing and starts rubbing it with her soft, slender fingers while continuing the gradually deepening thrusts.

Homura jumps a bit as soon as she feels it being touched, “Madoka, no! I don't—!” She tries to protest, but it's so obviously good that she stifles her words and starts squeaking in overwhelmed excitement.

But nonetheless, Madoka stops for a moment, “Homura? You okay?”

Seeing the opportunity, Homura says nothing and instead opens her arms up, reaching out for a hug. Madoka Awws and gladly indulges her, reaching down and hugging her up to just her chest. The thing slides in even more and seems to hit a bit of a wall, but Homura endures it for the sake of the hug. In due time, Madoka continues to pump forward, but with slightly faster and shallow thrusts that leave Homura wanting more.

Over the next few minutes, the process becomes easier and easier, until she eventually can't feel any real discomfort. Or at least, it's overshadowed by the bliss of being filled up by _Madoka_. Almost wishes _she_ were the one with the ol' strapless, if anyone had to have it. Well, the hug pretty much fixes everything, anyways, so it's not much to complain about.

And Madoka quickly notices that it doesn't seem to be hurting, anymore. She starts to go a little faster, bit by bit until it starts to become a strain on her legs.

“Madoka...” Homura gasps, trying not to let out her voice too much.

“Almost there?” Madoka assumes, still pounding away.

“No, but...” Homura stops to swallow and shudder “...I love you.”

Madoka smiles and giggles as she rises up from the hug, “I love you too.”

Homura grins at her, wider than Madoka's ever seen her do it before. “I... I don't know how long I can hold out, though!”

Madoka instinctively slows down to a halt, “A— Sh-Should I stop? I know you'll be out for a while if...” she trails off near the end.

Homura takes in a few deep breaths to collect herself, “It's... It's fine, just draw it out.”

“Draw it out?” Madoka says while backing up slowly.

“Nonononono!” Homura panics reaching foward and locking herself around Madoka. “Don't pull out, _draw_ out! Just...take it slow.”

Taken off-guard, Madoka shakily agrees and starts hugging her again, “Slow... Alright.” And so she goes, lifting Homura up and down as much as her tiny body can while pushing her hips at an angle, which unintentionally hits the sweet spot and makes Homura start to uncontrollably moan. Her voice resonates through the room as if it were a cave, and feels like it could practically shake their bodies. Yeah, the whole house can definitely hear them.

Of course, something this good could only last so long. Another few minutes of just constant reaming later, and they're both sweating. Madoka's thrusts have staggered, and her legs quiver with the temptation to give out at any minute. Suddenly, she has a new appreciation for tops. Meanwhile, Homura is quivering for an entirely different reason. Not only her shaft which twitches like it's about to blow at any second, but her back which goes between flat and arching as much as possible every time the toy almost gets pulled out. This time, though, it's for good. Madoka simply can't take any more and pulls out completely while letting Homura fall back onto the bed completely, making a shrill squeak as soon as she feels it leave her.

While panting from her overwhelmed senses, Homura begs her with open arms, “Wh-What? No, no, keep it in! Mado...Madoka, keep going!”

Madoka can't help but stare down in absolute pity at the girl, but has to turn her down, “I'm sorry...Homura...I can't keep up, anymore!” She then falls backwards onto the stretching out her legs with a pained groan.

That sound triggers Homura's protective half, making her shoot upright, “Madoka!? Are you okay? Did you pull a muscle?” Despite herself not being able to quite close her legs or sit normally yet, she still prepares to help by holding onto one of Madoka's legs.

Madoka chuckles, “No, no. I'm okay, just...tired. Can you help me get this thing off?” she points at the strap-on.

“Oh, sure.” Homura says. She hastily unbinds it, pulls it off, throws the condom away, and...kind of just leaves the harness lying on the floor. Can't do everything perfectly. Of course, as soon as she gets it off, she has her lover's utterly immaculate, smooth, _gleaming, _already-soaked nethers to just idly stare at in awe. It's not the first time she's seen it, but _damn_ this is a good angle. Once she's finally recovered from her own penetration, Homura gets her head right between Madoka's legs and asks right before going down, “Madoka, can I...?”

Madoka looks down, having been covering her face until now, and smiles at her, “Y-Yeah...go ahead. Just be—”

Too late. Homura dives right the fuck in as soon as she's given the signal, and the way she goes right for the most sensitive spot makes Madoka nearly jump up and yelp like a dog that just got hit. Her legs, though exhausted, still manage to lock up and wrap around Homura's head like a vice.

“O-OOOOH my GOOOOood!” she yells, voice wavering between her usual high pitch and going full Contralto. Of course, this does nothing to deter Homura who only hesitates for a moment before she continues with circling her tongue around Madoka's clit. Madoka wants to make her stop just from how absolutely overwhelming it is to go straight to that, but at the same time wants to completely drown herself in it. All she can really do is grab the pillow as hard as she can, moan, and hump her girlfriend's face as vigorously as her worn out hips will allow.

“_Tastes like honey...and coins? Maybe a little spice? Oh, fuck it.”_ Homura thinks to herself.

Of course, it's only overwhelming _at first_. Over the course of another minute of continuous licking and prodding with Homura's either skillful or unbelievably lucky tongue, she manages to get used to it enough to not start thrashing around. It goes from a sharp, somewhat painful jolt of lightning running through her body to a steady current that sets her entire lower body on fire. Metaphorically. Not literally. That would be bad.

She doesn't even say anything. Not a “good”, or “keep going”, or “right there”, but just a pleasant quietness filled with her softening moans that flow like liquid gold through Homura's ears every time she hears them. “I would fuck your voice, too, if I could.” she would say if her mouth weren't full of pussy.

Of course, the wonderful break for the both of them between the two true fuckfests of the night has to come to an end eventually. It's only the mid-way (give or take) point, after all, and Homura can't hold her breath forever. Indeed, the absolute grip that Madoka has on her head proves to be just a bit too suffocating, so she has to put both hands on her hips and push out, “Madoka! I can't...! I need to breathe!”

As soon as she realizes what she's doing, Madoka's legs go limp and let her go. “Oh! I'm sorry!” she automatically apologizes.

Homura pulls free and literally gasps for air, then wipes her mouth off. “Wow,” she says airily “that was...interesting.”

“Was it...not good?” Madoka asks carefully.

Homura smiles at her and leans forward to land a kiss on her lips, so that she can get a taste of it as well. “It was perfect.” she says while looking right into her eyes from an inch away.

She likes it. Kind of. It's a bit weird to taste your own fluids, but they're both too addled with hormones to give a damn at this moment. What Madoka _does_ give a damn about, though, is the thing prodding her at the moment. Homura pulls back so that she can see the shaft at full mast, absolutely begging for release, and she stares in awe at it.

“Whoa.” she says in particular. “It got...a lot bigger.”

“It does that.” Homura informs her.

“Yeah...” Madoka agrees.

They both sit there, staring at it, then each other for a good while before Madoka reminds her, “So, condom?”

“Oh, right.” Homura says as she reaches back and fetches another from the box.

Madoka suddenly lunges forward, “Here, let me!” Against Homura's wishes, she snatches the rubber from her and pushes her onto her back.

Homura yelps, “Madoka, what are you...!?”

Before she can do anything else, Madoka's already ripped it out of its package and started sliding it down the length, which easily shuts Homura up. Then, when it's all the way on, she decides to lubricate it a little extra and takes the whole thing into her mouth. As her tongue wraps around Homura's shaft, the girl has to spend all of her contained willpower to not immediately start facefucking herself.

“Nononono! No, Madoka! Stop! It's too much; too much!” Homura protests as she grabs the towel below.

Madoka obediently stops, “Too much?”

“I'm already about done for!” Homura tells her. “Just...let me finish in..._there_. Okay?”

Madoka goes from confusion to a wide grin, then giggles, “Oh, _okay_. I see how it is.”

Homura is the confused one, now, “Uh...yes?”

Madoka giggles at her, then falls back into her previous position. “Alright, come here!” she says, opening her arms and reaching out.

Homura quickly leaps at the opportunity. Literally. She assumes the position in seconds, mostly forgoing the largely unnecessary lube in favor of skipping straight to the action...and then getting stuck.

She's between Madoka's legs, lower head poised right at Madoka's entrance and even rubbing it in preparation, but something is stopping her. “...Madoka?” she asks.

“Hm?”

“This is...your _first time_. Are you sure I'm okay?”

Madoka's stare goes from eager to longing, its already soft features somehow softening even more as she pulls Homura into her arms and whispers, “Of course. No matter what you are, or what you become, I'll always love you. You're _my_ Homura.”

And as they gaze into each others' eyes from mere centimeters apart, Homura can feel tears welling up in their corners. Yet instead of bursting into a crying fit like usual, she swallows and grasps onto Madoka tightly. “I love you too, Madoka!” she whispers back. Their lips lock together as if they couldn't possibly be separated, and their bodies nearly meld together as one in an instant. Homura plunges deep inside of her, and despite the stinging pain and blood trickling, Madoka can't help but ignore it in favor of savoring every instant of this moment.

It takes the combined force of Madoka's leg lock and all of Homura's willpower to refrain from completely ravaging her right then and there. Need to look out for her comfort too, after all. Luckily, it doesn't need to last long. Because Homura doesn't last long.

After a few _agonizingly_ slow thrusts, Homura moans through their kiss and plants herself up to the base while her dick wildly pulsates. Madoka can easily feel its thrashing movements, and silently wishes that there weren't a layer in the way of feeling Homura's essence inside of her. The thought of being so completely, intimately, nigh _spiritually_ joined in such a way threatens to throw away all traces of reason she has left.

And Homura, the poor girl, is completely enraptured with the sensation and trembling at the seams from both pleasure she couldn't have possibly understood before now, and an unassuming, unnameable anxiety that roots within her stomach as a knot and fills her body with torpor. The chills that run across her skin and make her hairs stand on end fade relatively quickly. As does the breathtaking explosion originating...well, where the hell do you think? Both of these give way to exhaustion so strong as to make her collapse right on top of Madoka. With all of her strength drained, she can do nothing but cling weakly and break away from their kiss while her sword remains stubbornly embedded in the stone.

“Holy _shit_.” she lets out with exasperation.

Holy shit indeed, Madoka would agree if she were more dirty-mouthed. Instead she says, “Yeah.”

Both of them are out of breath at this point, and neither has enough to say to disregard that fact in favor of a fucking conversation of all things. Let the sex do the talking, as someone may have said at some point in time. They both decide to get a little space: Homura pulls out and lazily discards of the used rubber, then rolls over onto the other side of the bed. Madoka pulls out a nearby tissue and dabs herself down below, then just sort of lies there. Carefully, they reach for each other and hold hands.

Eventually, the realization that she barely lasted ten seconds hits and makes Homura quickly apologize with a hand on her face in shame, “Oh my god, I... I'm sorry, I didn't think...”  
  
Madoka smiles and tightens her grip, “It's okay, Homura. We'll try again in a little bit. Besides, I need time to heal, too.”

That comment makes Homura sit right up and look down at the tissue, to find that it's stained with specks of blood. She falls back down immediately, and leans to her side, hugging Madoka's arm and literally _crying, _“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...”

Madoka lies on her side and faces Homura, still speaking softly while caressing her hair, “I said it's okay. It would be weird if there _weren't_ any.”

“Did it hurt?”

Madoka stops for a second to think about her answer. She settles on, “Well...it stung at first, but being..._connected _to you like that made it feel amazing. What about you?”

Homura leaps at the question, “You were amazing, too! I've never felt anything like that in my life!” She says this while looking her right in the eyes, hers still damp, mouth gaping as if wanting to say more but hesitating.

Madoka grins from ear to ear and practically tackles her, “I'm glad!” she says within her suffocating embrace.

“I mean...” Homura second-guesses “...If it's you, I think it would be amazing no matter what. I wouldn't do this with anybody else.”

“Shhh, I know.” Madoka whispers into her ear. Her breath brushing lightly against Homura's ear makes her entire body shiver in delight. Soon enough, the two part and resume to lying down and trying to cool of some.

Under normal circumstances, it takes a little while for the refractory period to end, and even then it's pretty painful to get aroused again. But for Homura, she's far too excited to give a damn about any sort of discomfort like that, and her thing is standing excitedly on end in no time.

“Madoka, I'm ready.” she says.

Madoka looks right at it and makes a face somewhere between intrigue and intimidation. It definitely looks bigger than before, against all expectations. But as much as she wants to fiddle with it, she just responds, “Yeah... Let's do it.”

Homura shoots up and is about to go for the box again, “I'll get—”

But Madoka stops her, “No.” She holds her back with one arm and rises up, aggressively advancing and deftly pinning Homura down onto the bed. At that point, something absolutely primal overtakes her.

“Eh...Madoka? I-I need to get one, or...” Homura stammers.

“Shhh.” Madoka shushes her again, now looming over her and bending down to force a deep kiss on her. Which she graciously accepts. Madoka reaches down and starts groping her chest, then releases the kiss in order to go down on them; she sucks at the nipples like a starving baby and makes homura squirm under her command.

“Madoka, those are sensitive!” she cries out.

“I know.” Madoka continues regardless, “I want _every last bit of you_, Homura. I want to be connected completely, with _nothing_ between...” She bites down on Homura's nipple just hard enough to make her cry out, then reaches back up and takes her mouth again with a tongue-filled kiss so tight as to prevent any protest. Meanwhile, her lower lips have wetted themselves once again and in no time at all, helped by Homura's tip prodding at her unintentionally whenever she tries to squirm free.

But that resistance fades with each passing second. The tiny brain eventually overcomes its bigger sister, and Homura goes right into counterattack in that moment. She decides, “Oh, fuck it.” quite literally, grabs onto Madoka as hard as she can, throws her onto her back, and just _rams_ herself right into the girl.

“Yes!” Madoka squeaks, trying her damnest to not scream in delight. Her entire body automatically latches onto Homura completely in a vain effort to become one with it.

“OooOOH FUCK!” Homura yells out as soon as she bottoms out, now being able to feel every single little nuance of Madoka's insides without even trying; completely overwhelmed into paralysis with the disparity between her two existing frames of reference. She's not about to cum instantly like last time, but _damn_ if she couldn't get there if she lets her guard down for a single second.

“Is it good?” Madoka asks as if it weren't obvious.

Homura gasps in an effort to speak without moaning, “Yes! Yes, it's absolutely perfect!”

“But...you're shaking.” Madoka points out.

Indeed, she is. She hadn't noticed it in the moment, but her entire body is quaking as if it's about to collapse. It isn't, but she figures she ought to admit it right now, so she latches onto Madoka as well and holds her up just a bit while she whispers, “I'm... I-It's perfect, but it hurts and I'm really, _really_ scared right now!”

For some reason, Madoka giggles at this, but still comforts her with some light petting and kind words, “It's okay, Homura. You're doing great, just hold on tight...and...” she takes a deep breath as her body relaxes a bit “...keep going. It'll be alright.”

With the intense tightness inside of her released, Homura is free to moving, and she can barely manage to contain herself; each thrust attempts to be slow, but ends up jamming itself all the way in when she loses focus, which is practically every few seconds. And just when she feels herself getting the hang of it, Madoka interrupts her again.

“Blankets.” she says.

“Eh?” Homura stops.

“It's cold. Get the blankets.” she elaborates. Now that she mentions it, her feet feel like they could freeze over any second.

That poses another problem. Homura _really_ doesn't want to pull out right now, not when she had so much trouble getting this far. It's not like Madoka would let her, anyways. She's so tightly attached that you'd need a crowbar to pry her off. So she does the only thing she can and lifts Madoka up into her lap, scoots backwards until she can reach the bundle, and pulls it apart to drape it around the two of them. All while getting giggled at for how stupid this must look from someone else's perspective. Not that she wants anyone else watching, of course.

Once they're finally back into the previous position, Homura sighs and chuckles at her, “You're a handful, you know that?”

Madoka giggles back, again, “But you still love me.”

“I _adore_ you.” Homura corrects. Madoka loosens her grip for a moment just to look into her eyes one moment and dive into a kiss the next.

That kiss sets the both of them off, making them grind their hips against each other as they get back into the rhythm. Within a minute, Homura all but forgets about any inhibitions or pretexts of going “slow” or “easily”, and starts slamming her entire lower body against Madoka's with such force that it starts rocking the bed back and forth, the headboard banging against the wall repeatedly.

And she can feel Madoka's reactions, shuddering beneath her and threatening to go wild in her own right the moment her composure loosens. Both of her legs are wrapped tightly around Homura's waist, almost trying to stop her from moving but failing either intentionally or unconsciously. The walls of her insides are wrapping tightly around their invader, strangulating it like a boa but only serving to further provoke its owner. Meanwhile, she can't help but try to desperately hump Homura's rod in her own right to get just that little bit more friction out of it.

And at the same time, the two of them press their mouths together as if it were their last kiss, each trying to hold back their cries with the other's tongue but only succeeding in moaning into each other, making their bodies reverberate like two cats purring on each other in sync. The timidity, fear, and hesitation from before have all but evaporated as they sink ever further into the dark crevices of the blanket, becoming enveloped completely in the intoxicating product of their unbridled lust.

The smell of musk, which normally would be reviled, only serves to fuel their fervor as a catalyst to the hormones which addle their brains and continue to accumulate despite their best efforts to expel them through sex. Every thrust, every inch of contact that runs through becomes a miniature orgasm on its own — an electrical fire being set off from within that cannot be quenched and only grows.

The one thing that all of their sensations share is thus: heat. The blanket, too, _traps_ heat. This gives the expected reaction. Before they can truly lose themselves in the rut, the intense heat and pollution of their senses makes it incredibly hard to breathe, and so they break their kiss just for a second.

“Air!” Madoka gasps.

“Air.” Homura agrees, pulling the top of the blanket back from over their heads. The light of the room hits them like a truck, but surely doesn't stop the fucking. They'd go right back to kissing, but decide it'd be best if they catch their breath for a second, first.

It's as good a time as any for Madoka to ask, “Are you close?”

Homura sighs, “Madoka, I've _been_ close since we started.”

Madoka smiles and holds her tighter, if that's even possible, “You don't have to wait for me, you know.”

Homura kisses her neck, “But that wouldn't be fair. I want you to enjoy this, too.”

Madoka buries her face into Homura's shoulder as she feels her body tingle and warm up comfortably, “I _am_ enjoying it. But...if you really want me to...too, then...” She starts shifting herself around a bit until she's satisfied with the angle, “Try rubbing the top.”

Homura gulps and pulls her waist in while she hangs off of her shoulders, then pushes forward — but not too hard.

And then Madoka makes a sound which can only be described as an angel singing. All of the hairs on Homura's body stand on end, and her already steely appendage manages to get even harder. So much that Madoka can feel it stiffening unyieldingly inside off her.

“Did it just...?” Madoka asks.

Homura can only nod before she loses all semblance of sense and starts _assaulting_ that one particular spot over and over, concerned only with hearing the resulting cacophony of panicked moaning that escapes Madoka's lips unintentionally. And dearly, it satisfies. The sensation becomes so utterly overwhelming that Madoka loses all motor control and goes limp at the seams.

Less than a minute into the ravashing, and she's already pleading, “H-Homura, stoo— stooop! I'm gonna-AAAAA!”

At the same time, Homura assures her, “Me too! Oh...oh god, I need to pull out!” And she tries, but Madoka quickly traps her in with a leg lock. “E-Eh!? Madoka, I need to—!”

“I NEED IT!” Madoka practically screams.

Despite her best interests, Homura tries to hold it in long enough to let Madoka go first. “Oh, fuck. Why can't I say 'no' to you?” she says exasperatedly while she continues to agonizingly plow with wild abandon.

Of course, it doesn't take long for Madoka to start squirming around, teetering on the very edge as she holds her voice back in vain. Homura has gone completely stiff besides her hips in an effort to not be thrown over that edge, herself. She keeps chanting in her head just to reinforce it, _“Just a little long; don't cum, don't cum, don't cum, don't cum...”_

Finally, after a solid half-minute of excruciating pleasure, she can feel and see Madoka start convulsing and flailing about on the bed below her. Her legs tighten their lock and prevent any further movement while her walls do the same, feeling as if they could rip Homura's dick right off at any second. Thank god she isn't a squirter, because this is already almost too much for Homura.

Of course, having a violent orgasm tends to unshackle one's inhibitions. In this case, Madoka's attempts to hold back her voice fail utterly, and she starts _screaming._ Homura panics as soon as she starts, lunges forward (and deeply embeds herself in doing so), and tightly cuffs her hand around Madoka's mouth to muffle her. It just barely works; the room is still resonating her cries. Then she _reaches out at Homura_ for a hug. The sight is so adorable that she can't help herself; she leans back in and holds onto her tightly, enveloping her with a deep kiss—

“**HEY!** **YOU TWO QUIET THE HELL DOWN!**” Junko shouts from the other side of the door as she raps on it with her fists so hard that she might as well be punching it.

Both of them freeze completely. Homura is so scared and shocked by the sudden intrusion that she accidentally blows, pouring stream after stream of hot essence directly into Madoka's deepest parts. Of course, she couldn't pull out if she wanted to, with how tightly she's being trapped right now.

So the only thing she can do is go completely pale and just hold still while she stares down at Madoka who's just as surprised as she is. Though, more pleasantly so.

Madoka shouts back, having mostly finished her own orgasm, “O-Okay, Mama!” while still staring up at Homura. She whispers to her, “I... I can feel it.” Indeed, she can. It's faint, but she can feel a pleasant warmth spreading within her, and the slight twitching and pulsating of the thing trying to move around. It's almost...otherworldly. “Wow.” she says, starting to grin.

But on the other end, Homura looks utterly _mortified_. “Oh... Oh, god... I just...” she stammers, starting to visibly well up with tears.

Madoka immediately pulls her into a tight hug and consoles her with head rubbing and neck kissing, “It's okay, Homura. It's okay, just stay close and let it out.” Despite her best efforts, she can feel the girl start shaking like when they had first started, again. “I want it. I want you. All of you.” she continues, her voice still ringing beautifully enough to calm Homura down.

“I-I love you.” Homura barely manages to get out.

“Shh. I love you too.” Madoka coos back. That, at least, makes Homura smile fondly and stop shaking so badly, but she still tries to pull out. Madoka keeps her locked in, “No, no, stay in...”

Homura pushes herself up and stares down at her, “But—”

Madoka puts a finger to her lips, “Let's stay like this for a little while.”

Homura sighs, more out of exhaustion than anything else, “The things I do for you.” But still, she does it. And they lie there, connected completely for what seems like an eternity that passes in an instant.

But soon enough, Homura's thing deflates, and they're practically forced to start cleaning up. Wiping down and going to the bathroom is easy, so is disposing of the towel. Going to the drug store to buy a morning-after pill in the middle of the night is less so. The blanket was also unfortunately ruined with sweat, but Junko was understanding. And even after all of that, they still had the energy to stay up for hours into the night and play games, wrapped up copiously in a fresh cover that came straight from the dryer. Eventually, they fall asleep just like that: shoulder-to-shoulder, heads leaning against one another, arms intertwined, and wrapped in each others' warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> I know you're reading this, West. This is what I meant when I said I was going to write something pure and wholesome to cleanse my soul! (゜▼゜＊）


End file.
